Unless there is a gourmet dinner and a decadent cake made by my friend Charles, I'm not really much for celebrating my birthday. There have been some years, pre-facebook era, where I've tried to fly under the radar come birthday time.
Yesterday was my birthday. No fun plans were on my calendar and this post is not going to be about how an awesome surprise was thrown for me. But the day was a flurry of academic activity and a tasty zemon lest cake.
My mock-viva presentation was yesterday. We're not sure that I will have to do a viva but I am interested in presenting my research at a conference so this was good practice. I was grilled. The questions were out of left field and the other attending research students are now good and frightened about having to give a presentation in the future. But several times the interrogators, I mean panel, suggested the research only needed a few minor adjustments and it would be ready for conferences. I'm excited. They're excited.
And then I was handed a class to teach for this term. It was very sudden. As in, I got to my research office yesterday morning, turned on my computer, got a phone call from the head of the department, ran up to his office, he gave me a 10 minute explanation about why the class is being run this term, told me to meet with my supervisor who moderates the course, and then to email him the module guideline (syllabus for you American readers) by the end of the day. Before 5:00 p.m. I had sent my first email to my first set of students and Viola, I am a lecturer.
The funny thing about my life is that I have strange and sudden things handed to me, but yet, I know they aren't 'just' handed to me because I've been preparing, and researching, and running calculations, and making spreadsheets about how, where, and what of my future. I've run at least a dozen different scenarios to catch all the 'what-if's'. This wasn't one of the scenario's I had planned for, but I am prepared. And so very excited.
I'll be teaching Research Methods. I think every lecturer on campus is happy that they will not have to be teaching any of the assignments this term, but I can't think of a better class to teach. I LOVE Research Methods.
We'll see how I fare in ten weeks.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
One Year
Once upon a time I had a bicycle accident. I broke my arm and was in a series of casts for six months. I was cast free for two months when one cold icy day in Boston I slipped on the ice covered cobblestones of Harvard Square. Naturally, when falling on ice, I used my hands to catch myself and felt tension and pressure in my very unflexible wrist. Xrays and MRI's did not show any new break but the doctors felt the need to put me back in a cast for six weeks "to make sure".
The new cast lasted a week. It took three days of constant sawing with a steak knife, cutting little pieces off at a time, before I was free. After six months, and no detectable injury, I couldn't endure another six weeks of being bound.
Thursday will be my one year anniversary here in the UK. I have loved almost every single day. England is a beautiful country and I can't believe I've been lucky enough to live here and to do my graduate degree. I've worked hard during my Master's, rarely taking any breaks. The Master's was recently submitted and now I'm on to the PhD, which is a little less time and space restrictive.
I will be doing my field research in the States, and suddenly, my living conditions have become like the six week cast. Once endurable because of the need to be here, I am claustrophobic and eager to move on now that the time has come to do so. A year is a long time for me to be in any one place, but I live in one room and yet have no privacy. I can only afford weekly groceries, but even if I had money to spare, material goods like proper fitting running shoes don't exist here. I haven't the money to travel and see the sights, and at the same time work odd unstructured hours so I wouldn't have multiple days off to go far anyway.
I have no idea when or where my next stop will be but I'm anxious to get there.
The new cast lasted a week. It took three days of constant sawing with a steak knife, cutting little pieces off at a time, before I was free. After six months, and no detectable injury, I couldn't endure another six weeks of being bound.
Thursday will be my one year anniversary here in the UK. I have loved almost every single day. England is a beautiful country and I can't believe I've been lucky enough to live here and to do my graduate degree. I've worked hard during my Master's, rarely taking any breaks. The Master's was recently submitted and now I'm on to the PhD, which is a little less time and space restrictive.
I will be doing my field research in the States, and suddenly, my living conditions have become like the six week cast. Once endurable because of the need to be here, I am claustrophobic and eager to move on now that the time has come to do so. A year is a long time for me to be in any one place, but I live in one room and yet have no privacy. I can only afford weekly groceries, but even if I had money to spare, material goods like proper fitting running shoes don't exist here. I haven't the money to travel and see the sights, and at the same time work odd unstructured hours so I wouldn't have multiple days off to go far anyway.
I have no idea when or where my next stop will be but I'm anxious to get there.
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